


Good Kitten

by MrTobyWednesday



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, mlm author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 06:01:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2611052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrTobyWednesday/pseuds/MrTobyWednesday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Catboy!Hawke. That's really all I have to say on the matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Kitten

“So, uh… How exactly did this happen, again?” Anders asks, staring at Hawke incredulously – or, more accurately, staring at the pair of cat ears swiveling on his head. Hawke is sitting cross-legged on the bed, looking more amused by Anders’ reaction than anything else.

“Got on some shape shifter’s bad side,” he replies. Nonchalantly. _Probably got over the shock,_ Anders thinks. _Probably not the strangest thing that’s happened to him._ Hawke continues with his usual cut of dry humor, “Oh, the wonders you’ll find on the Wounded Coast. It’s all fun and games until someone tries to turn you into a cat. And fails.” He pauses. “Sort of.”

Anders sits on the edge of the bed and just marvels at him. “It’s kind of cute, really.” Maker, it’s _incredibly_ cute. Hawke gives him a look like he’s expecting Anders to find it more than just that. And Andraste’s ass, of course he does, but the bored, pampered cat look Hawke has going on just leaves Anders grinning like an idiot.

“Can I – touch them?” he asks, hesitant. Hawke gestures him over.

Anders smiles again, broad and bright, and moves from his spot on the edge of the bed to nestle into Hawke’s lap. He scrubs a hand through Hawke’s dark hair and scratches experimentally behind an ear. Hawke wraps both arms around his waist and inclines his head, ear flicking gently as Anders brushes a thumb along it. The purr that erupts from him is low and soothing.

“Oh, Maker,” Anders laughs adoringly. “How are you even doing that?”

Hawke makes a half-assed _dunno_ sound and bends his head forward more, evidently more interested in ear scratches than the biological impossibility that is his own purring. Anders is more than happy to oblige, petting and scratching behind both ears now. He watches both of them swivel around, probably responding to his voice and his breathing, and huddles even closer.

Hawke speaks up suddenly after a long minute of petting and scratching. “Want to see the tail?”

“Andraste’s flaming knickers, Hawke, a _tail_? You already know the answer to _that_.” Anders sounds absolutely floored by just the thought, and quickly clambers out of Hawke’s lap to see. Hawke simply turns and shrugs off his finery; sure enough there’s a tail, sleek and brown-black, the same color as his ears. A patch of dark fur meets skin on Hawke’s tailbone, and Anders barely refrains from reaching out and touching.

“A tail,” he repeats, stunned. “Maker’s breath, Hawke. A _tail_.”

“I’m just glad she didn’t try to turn me into a bird,” Hawke muses. “The irony of having feathers over my ass with a name like ‘Hawke’.”

Anders covers his mouth to stifle a giggle. “Is that it, then? Or do you have other cat-parts you need to tell me about?”

“Not physically, no. But don’t laugh at me if I start scratching the furniture.” Hawke turns again. Looks relieved to be able to say no. Anders pulls him close and kisses him on the lips; if Hawke didn’t know any better, he would think it chaste.

“I won’t, love,” he hums, and reaches both hands up to scratch behind Hawke’s ears again.

“Maker, that’s good,” Hawke purrs. “Almost makes insulting that shape shifter worth it.”

“Almost?” Anders sounds amused as he reaches one hand around Hawke and pets the base of his tail, feeling the soft fur on the small of his back. That elicits a little shiver that Hawke can’t quite cover up.

“Almost,” Hawke says. “Maker knows how I’ll manage to fix what I got myself into this time. I’m just glad I was able to hide it on the trip back.”

“We’ll figure it out, love. We always do,” Anders reassures, still petting Hawke’s hair. Hawke’s _I hope so_ goes unsaid and Anders pushes him onto his back, shifting to straddle him. Hawke makes no complaints, just rests his hands on Anders’ hips. “For now, though, why let something like this go to waste?”

Hawke lifts an eyebrow. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing really,” Anders says innocently. Or as innocently as he can pretend to be. He scratches behind Hawke’s ears until he’s purring again, then trails both hands down along his bare chest. Hawke’s chest hair is thick and he happily drags his fingers through it, down along his stomach to the trail dusting his navel. Hawke shivers under his light touch, watching him reverently.

Anders leans down to kiss him, teasingly grinding his hips down against Hawke’s and pulling a delighted hum from him. The kiss is slow and without any kind of urgency, just a gentle press of lips, Hawke’s beard tickling Anders’ face. Anders pulls away when Hawke tries to brush his tongue against his lower lip, winking as he climbs off of the bed entirely.

“Tease,” Hawke whines. His tail flicks irritably at the loss of Anders’ weight on top of him. “Come back here. That was nice.”

He goes quiet as Anders starts stripping down to his smallclothes, and reaches to tug his own trousers down, but Anders grabs his wrist.

“Did I say you could do that?” he chides, cracking a grin at Hawke’s pout. “Come on, I’m practically naked and you’re pouting at me?”

“It’d be nice if we were both practically naked,” Hawke replies. “A bit of a show wouldn’t have hurt much, either. But mostly the ‘both practically naked’ thing.”

“So impatient,” Anders purrs. His voice goes low and he climbs back on top of Hawke, pins both of his wrists above his head. “You’re such a spoiled little kitten. Maybe I should teach you a lesson.”

Hawke’s mouth goes dry at the implications and he grins, ears twitching. “Maker, Anders. I’ll try to be good.”

Anders smiles and sits up, releasing one of Hawke’s wrists – and when Anders gets like this, all coolly dominant and in-control, Hawke knows not to move his freed arm. Anders’ free hand traces a familiar path down to his navel. Stops just short of his trousers, already starting to tent.

“Please,” Hawke says easily, because he knows what Anders wants to hear. Anders is more than happy to rub his palm over Hawke’s cock, feeling it through the soft material of his trousers. Hawke groans softly.

“Good kitten,” Anders coos. He lets go of Hawke’s other wrist and scratches behind an ear. Hawke doesn’t move either arm. “ _Good_ kitten.” Much to Hawke’s displeasure, that’s all Anders does – palm his half-hard cock and listen to the quiet, breathy noises he keeps making. Hawke whines and pushes his hips up, but Anders just pulls his hands away.

“You really need a lesson in patience,” Anders hums. Hawke pouts and flicks his tail.

“Please, Anders. It’s good.” He pushes his hips up off the bed, eager to feel Anders’ hand again, to grind up against his ass if he’s lucky enough.

Anders ghosts a hand over his crotch just to make him squirm. “I’ll give you what you want, love. Just be a good kitten and don’t rush me.”

Hawke licks his lips and nods eagerly, waiting for Anders’ next move. Anders smiles and continues to grope and squeeze his cock when he relaxes. Then, just as it’s becoming a struggle to refrain from demanding _more, please, more,_ Anders scoots back, hooks his thumbs over the waistband of Hawke’s trousers. He tugs them down, smallclothes and all, to Hawke’s relief. Anders takes his cock in hand and makes him whine with long, slow strokes from base to tip.

Hawke purrs, moans, mewls like a cat in heat, and Anders sounds pleased when he asks, “Do you like that, kitten?” And Maker, of course he does, he loves it. Then: “I should get you a collar. You’d look so good, love. A leather one with a bell on it, you’d like that, right?”

Hawke’s mouth goes dry again and he whines, “Maker, yes. Yes, Anders. Fuck.” Anders’ other hand is behind his ear, scratching until he’s purring and kicking a foot.

Anders practically melts at the sight. “Andraste’s knickers, that was adorable.” Hawke laughs at the way he says it with his hand still wrapped around his dick.

“It felt nice,” Hawke says simply. As if it needed to be said. Anders grins and keeps pumping his hand, and Hawke can’t help but buck his hips up into the warm touch. Anders uses both hands to shove his hips down onto the bed and oh, Maker, Hawke loves it when Anders manhandles him.

Anders makes a soft tsk sound and remarks, “I might get on with it if you beg.”

“Maker’s breath, Anders, please,” Hawke groans. “Please keep going, it feels so good.”

“You sound like you’d rather I do something… Else,” Anders observes, rubbing Hawke’s cock again. Hawke licks his lips and nods.

“Maker, please.” Hawke whines a little when Anders shifts to sit on the edge of the bed, and rolls onto his side to watch him. Anders stands and drops his smallclothes – _Oh, finally,_ Hawke thinks – then digs through the nightstand for lube. Hawke tries his best not to whine again or demand Anders hurry up. It’s especially hard to control himself when Anders turns and he sees how hard he’s gotten without even being touched.

Maybe he ought to stay like this for a while if ears and a tail can get Anders this excited.

“On your knees, kitten,” Anders purrs, and Hawke obeys. He flips onto his hands and knees as Anders settles behind him with the lube. The gentle touch he feels as Anders brushes a hand down his tail makes him purr. Again.

“I’ll never get used to that,” he says after the rumble in his chest dies down. Anders chuckles behind him and uncaps the lube.

“It’s cute. Now ask nicely and I’ll get you ready.”

Hawke doesn’t hesitate to start begging, lowering his front half to the bed for dramatic effect. He presses back against the lubed finger he feels circling his hole and whines, “Please, Anders, please. Your fingers feel amazing, _please_.”

Slowly Anders pushes the first finger in, thumbing the fur on the small of Hawke’s back with his other hand. He laughs softly at the sight of Hawke’s tail, sticking straight up in the air. He works his finger in to the knuckle and listens to Hawke’s shaky exhale. “Nice?”

“Maker, yes,” Hawke breathes out, and Anders starts slowly moving his finger in and out. Hawke is tilting his head back and making soft breathy moans, ears cocked forward. It doesn’t take long for Anders to add a second finger, scissoring and stretching him, then a third, and Hawke is groaning and purring the whole time. “Anders, oh, Anders. Fuck yes.”

The loud, mewling whine that leaves Hawke’s lips when Anders finally removes his fingers is one that makes them both laugh outright.

“By the Maker, Hawke, what was _that_?”

“I have _no_ idea. Let’s pretend that didn’t just happen. Maker, I feel empty.”

Grinning from behind him, Anders pours lube over his cock and guides himself to Hawke’s hole. Hawke shivers a little as Anders pushes in slowly and leans forward, over his arched back. Anders kisses his shoulder as he sinks in, all the way to the hilt, and Hawke’s moan is guttural.  
He feels full, bursting even with Anders inside him, something he can never really get enough of.

“Fuck, Anders. Fuck me, please.” He shakes as he tries to keep still, waiting for Anders to start moving. It’s slow at first, Anders moving his hips back and forth without much force, but Hawke is impatient as he begs for a faster pace. “Please, faster. Maker, please, it’s so good.”

“Yeah? Fuck, Hawke. You’re so tight, I love it,” Anders babbles, gradually picking up the pace until the slap of skin on skin fills the room. Hawke moans fervently, pushing his ass further in the air as Anders fucks into him deeper. “You’re so good, you’re such a good kitten.”  
Hawke gasps and bucks his hips when Anders brushes against his prostate, lifting one hand from the bed to grip his cock in a fist. His hand pumps in time with Anders’ thrusts, fast and rough as heat coils in his stomach.

“Anders, please, I’m so close,” he announces, repeating Anders’ name through heavy panting like it’s a prayer. Anders straightens up, no longer flush against Hawke’s back, and uses both hands to roughly pull Hawke’s body against him with each hard snap of his hips. When Hawke comes, it’s messy and leaves him tense and shuddering, Anders’ name on his lips as he rides it out eagerly.

Anders curses under his breath and empties into Hawke not even a minute later, thrusting erratically into Hawke’s tight heat. Hawke purrs loudly at the feeling of Anders’ come even as he pulls out and tugs them both to lay down.

“Maker, Anders,” Hawke begins, “That was…” He has no words, really. Not that he ever does; Anders always leaves him speechless.  
Anders laughs at how breathless they both are and pulls Hawke close, tangling their legs together and petting his hair again.

“Such a good kitten,” he hums tiredly. Hawke just keeps purring, nuzzling into his hand and twitching his ears. “We should do this again before we try to change you back.”

“Only if I can buy a collar,” Hawke says. Anders grins and brings one hand around Hawke to pet the base of his tail.

“Be a good kitten and I’ll buy it myself.”

Hawke purrs and rubs his face against Anders’ cheek, beard scratching his skin red. Anders giggles and shoves him away.

“Okay, I get it, you _are_ a good kitten,” he says, laughter bubbling from him easily. “Now pull the covers up, I’m cold.”

Hawke does, purring loudly the whole time, contemplating just living with the ears and tail. Maker knows how much more it could spice up his sex life.

**Author's Note:**

> We all know Anders would have a thing for catboys, okay, this needed to happen.
> 
> (Weak ass title, weak ass end, but whatever, I dropped all my homework to write this.)


End file.
